


Own Personal Archangel

by Taste_of_Suburbia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bonding, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Friendship, M/M, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Gabriel, Sappy, Seduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-08
Updated: 2012-12-08
Packaged: 2017-11-20 15:55:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/587089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taste_of_Suburbia/pseuds/Taste_of_Suburbia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel can’t help but wonder if, in another life, he and Dean would have been the best of friends. Well, if his chances are good enough, maybe he won’t have to wait until another life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Own Personal Archangel

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for Tall Tales, since it’s set a little after that episode. Slightly angsty (it’s more implied), though mainly fluffy.  
> This was written for the lovely thearchangelicdetectivetimelord on Tumblr, who asked for Tall Tales-esque debriel fluff. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing.

“Look, man, I gotta tell you. I dig your style, you know. I mean, I do.”

Gabriel smiles smugly at the words Dean had spoken barely four days prior. It was one thing to admire the archangel’s antics, it was another altogether to pretty much straight out say that in another life, the two of them might have been friends. 

The closest of friends possibly. 

Gabriel has never been a stranger to friendship, to brotherhood. The latter was rife in heaven, but somehow it had lacked meaning, lacked essentially what the world meant. But he has been watching humans closely for what seems to be eons, and Sam and Dean for much less time, but with them, he was able to see brotherhood, once broken but now restored. 

It was and still is disappointing that Dean found killing him to be the easier choice, and maybe if he was human he would understand. 

He’s not human. 

He makes sure Sam is gone before he joins Dean in the deathly silent room. He looks to be researching, but Gabriel is willing to put more money on that he’s deep in thought over something. He seems to be deep in thought over a lot of things lately. 

“What?” Dean flips to another page and only glances up briefly. The hunter wouldn’t be surprised to see him now, Gabriel showed up a couple days before and Dean was plenty surprised then, though not really in the mood to care too much about it, much to the archangel’s expressed aggravation though entirely masked disappointment. 

“No jumping out of your chair or reaching for your knife still? Nothing like that?” _Boy, Deano. You have grown reckless._

The Winchester sighs loudly, “What do you think Sam would have thought of me if I hadn’t wanted to cut you down?” Gabriel finally hears him _speak,_ the last time there was merely a death glare and nothing more, a death glare that suspiciously didn’t seem one-hundred percent death glare-ish to the archangel. 

Gabriel shrugs, not needing to ponder the answer. Dean blaming his actions on Sam and not himself is making him reel in excitement, his mouth watering and mind over-working itself with random potentiality. On a whim, he reaches for the large book Dean is now only pretending to be engulfed in, and grabs it, pondering whether to throw it across the room but instead sends it out of this dimension. The hunter doesn’t even seem annoyed, just stressed and tired. 

“What’s wrong, kiddo?” Gabriel’s head cocks to the side in curiosity; it’s easier when he doesn’t have to fake it.

Dean suddenly looks up at him, albeit suspiciously, “Why would you care?”

Despite Dean’s endless questions and Dean’s nonstop attempts to hide himself emotionally at every possible moment, Gabriel has always been able to see a flicker of him potentially opening up, even if only for a few lines or seconds. He’s been wanting to push the Winchester ever since he met him in physical appearance. 

And now, maybe he’s got a decent chance. 

“Cause,” Gabriel stands up, “I’m giving you the chance to talk.” He looks the eldest Winchester up and down thoroughly, is pleased to discover he’s as impressed as he’s ever been. He’s pretty sure the hunter has no idea what he’s doing to the archangel currently, how crazy with lust he’s making him, but he wonders anyway. “Or if you’d rather, I can just as easily take your mind off it.”

Because of course he has _plenty_ of ways of doing just that. 

Dean seems to think about it for a decent minute, is rendered silent by Gabriel restraining his pushy attitude and exuding patience and genuine interest in the hunter’s affairs. He’s never done this for anyone before, so he better damn well do it right, especially where Dean Winchester is concerned, where if you say or do one thing wrong he could potentially implode on his ass. 

Though if he could just enclose Dean tightly in his arms, no need for restraint, no dragging him under the whims of pressure... if he could be assured that he really does want to be there, Gabriel figures he might never find a decent reason to leave. 

“Come here,” Gabriel says slightly impatiently though softly, gently, suppressing licking his lips at how truly gorgeous Dean is. At how a prize he suspects he’s wanted for far too long is now sitting a mere two feet away from him, eyes on him, attention on him, everything Gabriel _wants._

And suddenly the archangel can’t wait anymore. He fills up the too giant space between the two of them, eyes the knife held tightly in Dean’s hand briefly, which he drops instantly as he stands up slowly, almost as if it was never an option to Dean at all. 

Still, he considers it, “Hmm,” as he stares into Dean’s vivid hazel eyes, at his masculine yet delicately human form making him awash with sensation and luxury. Dean seems real and powerful and it’s like he doesn’t even know it at all, as the angelic being contemplates whether he could drown in those eyes, in that _soul_ and if that would end up being the key to his undoing. All he knows is that all of his senses are on fire, every impulse of his he wants to act upon, every dream and desire he _craves_ to make known to Dean. “So, you are afraid of me.” _Not the effect I intended._ “Still wanna kill me, Deano?”

Gabriel wants to grab his hand and hold it, provoke Dean maybe to pick up the knife again, to see if he feels threatened at all. “No,” Dean shakes his head, sounding sure of himself, “I never...”

And he wants to say he knows, he knows _everything._ Everything that the hunter is feeling and wants to say but can’t and everything he’s risking. 

Maybe _trust_ isn’t a distant dream after all. 

He breaks the minuscule distance between them and smashes his lips into Dean’s, soon enjoying the exquisite tastes found rampant in his mouth with his tongue. He hears Dean gasp in surprise before moaning, his legs turning to jelly and the archangel catches him before he can slip to the ground, now fully aware of how fragile he is, how it makes him just that much more beautiful. 

“I didn’t...”

Gabriel grins at how adorable Dean is, “Sure ya didn’t, kiddo. But let’s get to the bedroom anyway, better to be safe than sorry, right?” Dean nods at that, following him as if in a daze, not really thinking about what he’s doing and since the warning signs aren’t going off in his head, he supposes he’s not putting himself into any real danger. All he knows is that he’s tired of being alone, sick of holding himself together with glue that doesn’t stick and the hope that Sammy will never leave him again, and he just needs some permanence in his life, something that feels _real_ this time, not some figment of his damned imagination. 

He lets Gabriel lead him down to the plush bed, revels in how this particular archangel seems to understand a human’s fragility. He feels like one harsh or careless push will send him over the edge, and he’ll either push away or find another knife or do something else which he’d come to regret. As he moves into a more comfortable position, he remembers that the bed wasn’t exactly this soft before, and he smiles at the sight of Gabriel as he settles beside him. After a brief moment, he’s done wondering if the last five minutes were a dream. 

If this is a dream, he doesn’t want to know. 

“Tweaked a few things,” Gabriel answers his unspoken question, his fingers tingling, like little pleasurable jolts of electricity are traveling through them; he envisions all the things he could get for Dean instantly. _Ask for something, kiddo._ “Hope you don’t mind.”

Dean suddenly feels less lightheaded and very hungry for what he expects to be Gabriel. _What a strange day this is turning out to be._ “Don’t mind at all. Didn’t think you wanted to pamper me, even with those offerings of pie the other day.” There were so many that Dean had grown dizzy: cherry, lemon, blueberry, peach, apple, and half a dozen others he couldn’t remember. 

“Course I want to spoil you.” Gabriel thinks for a second of something else he might want to do more, and can’t come up with anything. “What else is there to do?”

“I don’t know, go prank someone, like you were happy doing before you met me.”

Gabriel smirks at that, “I always knew you, kiddo. I’ve been watching you and your moose of a brother for far too long, I was starting to get a headache from the distance factor.”

“And that’s not creepy at all,” Dean responds, watching the archangel intensely, unable to tear his eyes away. He’s managed to relax in the five minutes since Gabriel’s been here, and it feels great to feel like he can catch a break. A break he feels like he hasn’t had in ages. And he has kinda missed him, if he hasn’t mentioned that yet. After all, they do have a lot of the same interests: women, anything sweet, sex...

“Oh, by the way...”

“So, Deano,” Gabriel cuts in, annoying Dean but he actually doesn’t mind, it sort of draws him closer to the archangel. “What did you think of the little stunt I pulled? Impressive, huh? Faking your own death and all, wanna try it again? It’ll be harder to catch me this time.”

Dean rolls his eyes, shoving Gabriel’s words to the side. “Just get to it already, sick of waiting to see what you’re gonna do.”

“Really?” Gabriel waggles his eyebrows at him, “Cause I was just gonna cuddle, ya know, till Sammy came back and all.” And with that, he presses himself back tightly into Dean, his head resting on his chest and Dean feels comforted, somehow _relieved_ at the warm and steady weight of it. “That okay with you?”

Dean’s breathing speeds up at having Gabriel as close to him as he can possibly get, practically smothering him. He thinks about what his reaction should be for a minute, then blacks out the skeptical part of his brain and smiles, running his fingers through the archangel’s silky soft hair. 

“Sounds good to me,” and he wraps his arms around Gabriel and settles in to watch the Dr. Sexy marathon with his own personal archangel. 

Sure, none of this may make any sense to him, but then again, it sort of does. Gabriel just happened to be who he needed and Dean just so happened to be what Gabriel needed. There shouldn’t be any harm in it, though Dean still can’t trust himself for not regretting it later. He can only hope that maybe letting Gabriel be a friend won’t come back to bite him in the ass later. Only time will tell. 

Dean closes his eyes, finally at peace with the world around him, and when Gabriel nuzzles his head against his own as a possible sign of affection, he finds that he surprisingly couldn’t appreciate anything more. _Yep, life’s pretty damn weird... but good._

Until Sam walks through the door, that is, then it just gets weirder. Still, Dean’s starting to like weird.

**FIN**


End file.
